Devil's Whisper Chapter 99: Lines of Threat

Normally, Kate might have bristled at Jason’s stubbornness, the way he relentlessly questioned her reasoning grating on her nerves like sandpaper against raw skin. His insistence on concrete evidence over her intuition had sparked more than a few heated arguments in the past, leaving her frustrated and fuming.

But here, in this fleeting moment beneath the overcast sky of the police station yard, something shifted. An unexpected warmth bloomed in her chest, a quiet comfort threading through the tension that coiled between them. Jason’s skepticism wasn’t malice or doubt in her—it was his way of shielding her, of ensuring every angle was covered, every threat accounted for. Beneath his gruff exterior and sharp challenges, all he wanted was to keep her safe and see this case through to its end.

Nothing more, nothing else.

And that realization steadied her, anchoring her against the storm of fear and uncertainty threatening to pull her under.

“Jason, from the very beginning, the killer has been sending all the quatrains to me,” Kate said, her voice steady. “We all know this—there’s no question about it. Out of everyone, he chose to come to my house and threaten me directly. He could have gone to your house, or to someone else’s, to send his message. But no—he came to my house. And he didn’t stop there—he started his entire spree of killings with my parents.” Her voice caught on that last word, a raw wound she rarely let surface, but she pushed through it, her eyes locking onto Jason’s with an intensity that dared him to look away.

She paused, drawing a slow, shuddering breath, the memories of her parents’ deaths flickering behind her eyes—the echo of screams she’d never heard but could still feel in her bones.

“So, I know, Jason,” she continued, her tone hardening with a certainty forged in pain. “I know he’s pointing all his cryptic messages at me. This time, he’s making it clear—he’s coming after me.”

Jason listened in silence, his brow furrowing deeper with each word she spoke, carving lines of tension into his rugged features. He wanted to argue, to push back with the skepticism that was his reflex—to tell her she was wrong, that she was jumping to conclusions, that there was still room for doubt. But the words wouldn’t come. Deep down, beneath the layers of denial he clung to, he knew she wasn’t wrong. Every piece she laid out fit too perfectly, a chilling pattern unfurling before them like a spider’s web glistening with dew.

And then there was the nagging feeling gnawing at the back of his mind, a whisper he couldn’t silence: this killer wasn’t a stranger plucked from the shadows. There was a connection to Kate, a thread tying them together—familial, vengeful, something intimate—though its shape remained maddeningly out of reach. The thought tightened his chest, a cold dread mingling with the heat of his frustration.

He couldn’t let her face this alone, couldn’t let the bastard win.

“Kate, don’t worry,” Jason said finally. He rose to his feet, his broad frame casting a shadow across the cracked marble as he met her gaze with unflinching determination. “We’re going to catch this bastard before he ever gets near you. I promise you that.”

Kate nodded, her expression softening as she looked at Jason, a faint glimmer of relief easing the sharp edges of her features.

“I’m not worried, Jason,” she said calmly, her voice steady and measured, a stark contrast to the tremor he’d heard earlier in the day. “I’ll admit, I was concerned earlier—when Rodrick and I first deciphered that message, it rattled me. I felt the walls closing in, like the killer had reached through those quatrains and grabbed me by the throat. But that was a few hours ago. I’ve had time to think it through, to wrestle it down, and now I’m not letting it affect me.” She straightened in her chair, her posture radiating a quiet strength. “I’ve got too much work to do to let this psycho slow me down. He sent that message hoping to scare me, to freeze me in my tracks, to make me cower. But I’m not going to give him the satisfaction. If anything, I’m going to work harder, more diligently, to catch that piece of shit and drag him in front of a jury where he belongs.”

Her eyes blazed with a fierce determination, a fire that refused to be snuffed out, no matter how dark the threat looming over her.

Jason couldn’t help but admire her resilience, the way she turned fear into fuel, bending it to her will.

“I’m with you,” he said firmly, his voice thick with conviction, rooting her resolve with his own. “But we need to take some extra precautions to make sure you’re safe. Here’s what we’re going to do: I’m sending two men over to your house to install CCTV cameras. We’ll set them up inside and outside, covering every possible angle—doors, windows, the yard, everything. On top of that, I’m having my team install a tracker in your car and another one on your phone. That way, we’ll have eyes on you at all times, no matter where you go.”

Kate nodded without a flicker of hesitation, her trust in him absolute. “Okay, that works. Let’s do it,” she said, then paused, her gaze sharpening as she met his eyes again. “There’s one more thing you have to do.”

“What is it?” Jason asked, leaning forward slightly, his instincts sharpening at the weight in her voice. He could sense this wasn’t a casual request.

Kate’s eyes held his, unflinching, as she spoke with clear, deliberate precision. “You need to implant a tracker inside my body,” she said, her words slicing through the quiet like a blade. “If, by any chance, the killer manages to abduct me, you’ll still be able to track his location and find me before it’s too late.”

Jason blinked, his blood running cold as her suggestion sank in. The casual way she spoke of her own potential abduction—of her death—hit him like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t believe she could stand there, calm and composed, proposing something so drastic, as if it were just another step in their investigation. But that was Kate Miller—always the journalist, the problem-solver, putting the case above her own safety, her own life. He’d seen her push herself to the brink before, ignoring her health, her well-being, all for the truth. It drove him mad sometimes, how she could be so fearless, so reckless.

After a small, resigned sigh, he nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Okay, I will do that,” he said, his voice quieter now, laced with a reluctant agreement he couldn’t refuse her.

Kate pressed on, her tone firming as she laid out the boundaries. “But you need to make sure no one else finds out about this—not Ophelia, not Samuel, no one. This has to stay between you, me, and Rodrick. Rodrick will know the frequency of the tracker, and that’s it. No one else can know.”

Jason gave her a reassuring look, his expression softening as he met her intensity with his own steady resolve. “I understand. I agree with you. We’ll keep it completely confidential,” he said, his voice a low, grounding promise. He understood the stakes—knew that secrecy was their shield, that one leak could unravel everything. “I’ll get everything arranged,” he added, already mapping out the logistics in his mind. “I’ll set up the cameras and trackers first, and then I’ll let you know when it’s done. The implant—we’ll figure out a discreet way to handle that, too. I’ve got a guy who can do it off the books.”

“Alright,” Kate said, rising from her chair with a fluid motion, brushing off the weight of their conversation as she shifted gears. “I’m going to head out now. I need to look into Sasha Paula’s mobile phone and laptop. Do you have a way to get access to them?”

Jason stood as well, nodding as he started toward the backyard gate, his steps purposeful.

“I’ll ask Oliver to assist you with that,” he said over his shoulder. “He’s got the tools to crack into anything—phone, laptop, you name it. I’ll have him meet you at the station in an hour.”